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Travels in Russia

KLM Rocks Across Europe!
Santa Claus in Moscow
Television Is a Time Suck
The Reality of Irrelevance
Salute Mayor Luzhkov
Impeachment Happens
I Am Not The Only One...
I'm Back! Did Ya Miss Me?
Chechnya Burning
Weddings in Winter
The Jews Are Here!
Gailyn Goes to Town
Is There a Central Bank?
Santa Barbara is Real
Nick's Thanksgiving in Russia
Den' Rozhdeniya = Birthdays
Those Crazy Expats
It's Just a Few Drops of Vodka...
Elections Are Always Rigged
The Blind Leading the Blind
Good Russian Grooms
You Say 'Boris Berezovskiy' Fast
Too Cold to Care!
Russian Oil Towns
Sneaky Siberian Tigers
Which Way is St Peterburg?
Where am I again? Oh, yeah...
I Love Me Some Vodka
It's a Gosorg Halloween
Hunger Comes to Us All
Why Don't They Just Learn English?!
Post-Crisis, Life Goes On
Is Yeltsin 'The Man'?
Murmansk - Brrrr!
Taganka Hides Her Secrects
These are Communists
It's a Power Vaccum
The Commies are Back
Propaganda is Good for You
You Better Buy Russian!
Sex Ed Soviet Style
Party over, oops outta time!
Russian Healthcare in Moscow
What Russian Financial Crisis?
YE Prices in Russia
The Hungry Duck
Russian Caviar Mafia
Magical Mushrooms
Shhhh! We're Bear Hunting
Soviet Street Scams
Bez Dollarov
A Koshka Konspiracy
On The Dacha
The Banking Implosion
Surviving Army Life
Shashleek is Steak on Steroids
Dacha Thinking
Beach Weekend
Dos Vedanya
Hello from Vladivostok
Equality Means Only She Works
Jogging is an Extreme Sport
Russians Have Reunions Too
My Folks in Massive Moscow
Miners Are Real Men
The Russian Mafia is the Roof
No One Smiles in the CIS
One Year Anniversary
Russian Brides Rock
Laura is My St Pete Connection
Change is in the Wind
Chuck Norris' Beverly Hills Casino
The Expat Woman's Predicament
Street Food is Yummy!
Spring Flowers Make June Leavers
The Provinces Are Provincial
Ever Take an Elektrichka?
The English Invasion
Nuttin Like New Money
Rules Are Made to Break
All Black is Russian Fashion
Easter Memories = Easter Dinner
Politics, Russian Style
Theresa Tries to Russify
I Go to Gay Clubs Worldwide
I Hide on Women's Day
New & Shiny: Nizhny Novgorod
Psst! Wanna job in Moscow?
Fili Park Has All the Bootlegs
Web Page Reactions
Take a Break at Dom Odaha
Expat Living in Moscow is Swank
Why Are You Remonting?
They Look Like Telephones...
In Need of a Decent Hairstylist
Smashing Bottles in Red Square

Readership

Russia, July 6, 1998

Better than Fireworks

Never refuse a trip to the dacha, even on the 4th of July

Swank for a Russian!
The Good Life
What a weekend! Not only was it the 222nd birthday for America, it was also my landlord's (Vladimir) birthday too. Usually I would join with all the other Americans here at the Annual 4th of July Festival put on by the American Chamber of Commerce in Moscow , but the weekend of rain made that idea moot. Instead, I did a more American thing; I went to a two day BBQ at Victor's home.

Victor, his wife Ludmila, and his son Pasha, live at their dacha outside Moscow. Unlike the majority of Russian, they bought their dacha and did not receive it though a work or family connection. Vladimir is from Samara, in the south of Russia, and Ludmila is from Siberia. He remonts office buildings for a living, while Ludmila remonts apartments as a hobby (ours is one such example). I would say they are quite successful, with a comfortable, and relatively modern dacha, a huge yard (very prized in a land of apartments), two greenhouses, a small pool, and a hot banya.

I spent all day Saturday eating, drinking, and playing with the 20 odd other friends and family of Vladimir's. Yes, all day. We started eating salads around noon, and moved onto shashlik (chunks of meat BBQ'ed, but better) around four, with desert finally served around seven. During all this food, I learned how to play Russian billiards, much harder than American pool, and went for a walk in the huge park that surrounds their home. Fat, happy, and drunk, we started the real fun. Into the 90 C banya we piled, all quasi nude, then into the 20 C pool, and back to the banya. After an hour of this, I was exhausted. I had a bit of tea, and fell asleep in the spare bed.

Yesterday was filled with a mean table tennis competition between an eight-year-old and me. I would tease him, giving him a few points, then shut him down with blazing serves and returns. The poor kid, he never knew what hit him!

Actually, at breakfast, I had an amazing, and very interesting, conversation with all the adults about taxes. No one, at least no Russian pays taxes unless someone rats on him. Because the insanely high tax rates (35% on all personal income +100% gross business sales!), no visible government services for the taxes, and the general inability (due to graft and incompetence) of the government to enforce the tax laws evenly, no Russian or foreigner will even consider paying their full share of taxes if the tax police do find out who they are. Now that the Duma (Russia's parliament) is actively reforming the tax codes to stimulate payment, there is conversation about what the tax rates and application methods should be.

All the adults were interested in how high the USA personal income rates are, how they are applied, and what exemptions there are. With my broken Russian, I was able to get a fair bit across, including capital gains taxes and state income taxes, which was digested with intense discussion. The concept that each state can implement income taxes, and that cities can implement real estate taxes, gave all pause. There is such a long history of extreme corruption at the regional level, even more at the local level, that the Russians mistrust anybody outside of Moscow to treat the people fairly. At the national level, they can be assured that everyone will be cheated equally as much as the next sucker.

I was heartened to learn that everyone here would like to pay taxes, and be fully legal, but until there is real change, and the people see something for their taxes, the tax police are going to have a tough job ahead.

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